


All My Friends Think You're Vicious

by Nixita



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Grocery Shopping, M/M, Roger Being Insufferable, friends being friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 09:56:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16659011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nixita/pseuds/Nixita
Summary: Brian would never ever imagine to hear John say "I unfortunately went to a supermarket, not to a sexshop". In retrospective, it shouldn't have surprised him given that his boyfriend was involved. Who knew that even a grocery list could turn to dangerous weapon in Roger's hands?So, Brian was now quite sure John will never offer to do the shopping for them again.





	All My Friends Think You're Vicious

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I was stuck home ill for a while now and spent the time reading pretty much every Maylor fanfic which was on the internet (which is time well spent if you ask me!) and somehow those two were living inside my head since then. And then this idea popped up while I was trying to work or study (preferably both) and I just had to throw everything aside and write this story. It's (supposed to be) funny and cute.
> 
> English is not my first language and I haven't written in it for a while so I apologize for any mistakes I might have made.
> 
> Oh, and I also want to publicly thank to shewasagaystripper for existing, creating incredible amount of perfect fics and making my days much better by her writing.

“Okay, so tomatoes, eggs, bacon for you, some oranges, coffee beans and band-aids and that should be all,” Brian read the last items on the list he spent almost half an hour creating. “Do you have any other idea what we might need?” he asked the empty space behind him.

“Mon-honz!” he said his partner say on the other side of the flat that was probably bathroom.  
The guitarist did not seem to appreciate nor understand that thought. “What? I can’t hear you!”

“CONDOMS!” a voice behind him shouted so loud that it was probably heard at the other side of the block. Brian jumped in shock and the paper fell from his arms. There was a giggle and then the slender blonde figure of Roger Taylor holding a toothbrush appeared in front of him. “Don’t look so shocked, it’s not my fault that we ran out of those again.”

“Yes, because my favourite idea how to spend Sunday afternoon is piercing condoms purely so we can buy a new pack. That’s precisely what I do every weekend,” Brian replied sarcastically. “Anyway, baby, you can’t be serious. I can’t possibly put condoms into a grocery list I’m gonna give to John.”

When he realized how unfortunate his phrasing was, it was already too late. Mischievous grin spread across Roger’s face and he was more than happy to help Brian dig his own grave.  
“Luckily that’s no problem. I can write it down for you,” the drummer purred, picked up the piece of paper lying on the ground and moved towards the desk.

This time it was Brian who screamed, his 'NO' echoing through the flat.  
However, it did not seem to make Roger nervous, not even in the slightest. The smaller man’s smile spread even wider as he reached for a bright, fluorescent pink fineliner and wrote C O N D O M S in capitals at the end of Brian’s carefully prepared list.  
The guitarist put his head into his hands. “Don’t forget to add some extra details,” he groaned, not learning from his previous mistake in the slightest, “preferably the desired length in inches so John doesn’t get too bored.”

Unfortunately, he was buried way too deep in his misery to realize the sound of the liner scribbling on the paper – until it was too late. When the doorbell rang, Roger shoot up from the chair he was sitting on and quick as lightning ran into the hallway to greet their bandmate. By the time Brian shouted “wait, no!”, Roger was closing the doors behind John. Then he heard quick footsteps, another door being slammed shut and the soft click of the lock. And then – silence followed by some sort of melodic humming.

That actually got him to get up from the sofa he has been sitting on and go towards their bedroom. “Open the door, you little devil,” he commanded while knocking his knuckles against the surface, “so I can strangle you.”  
Nothing changed except for the sounds he could hear. Or, more precisely, the humming now transformed into actual words. It didn’t take long for Brian to realize that the melody he heard has been indeed very familiar to him.

“Roger? Are you seriously singing Don’t Stop Me Now right now?” he asked to make sure about something he already knew too well.  
A giggle came from behind the door followed by a muffled ‘yes’ before Roger resumed his singing.  
“Then it’s a shame you’ve locked yourself up in there so I can’t get to you and treat you the way you deserve,” Brian informed him while carefully shifting the lock from side to side, “and even bigger shame you forgot that our bedroom lock is broken and the door can be opened even when locked,” he finished the sentence with a swift (but still careful) swing of the now-unlocked door. When he saw his boyfriend squeaking and backing from him towards the bed, the guitarist acknowledged that restocking their nightstand drawer had not been such a bad idea.  
  
-  
  
Two hours later, the other band member returned from his shopping quest. Brian went to answer the door this time and though he approached him very carefully, John acted as if nothing regarding condoms ever happened. He gave the guitarist the purchased items, informed him of the things he wasn’t able to get and small-talked about the mall being full of people and the studio work they planned on next week before he turned to leave.

“Oh, and for the condoms,” John stopped in between the doors just in time Brian was beginning to think that it went without any embarrassing incident. “I found your request to be quite unrealistic, so I broke it down to parts. So here are,” he dug into the left pocket of his jeans, “the extra-large ones,” other pocket, “the aloe vera scented,” pocket of jacket, “the ones in a blue box, I think it has something to do with being extra lubricated, and the purple ones, and finally,” John made a dramatic pause, “the ones I needed Freddie’s help for – glowing in the dark! Well, the box, actually,” he stuffed the five boxes into surprised Brian’s arms, who’d been getting redder and redder in the cheeks with every word John spoke. “I decided to leave the flowers you drew all around out of the requests because I unfortunately went to a supermarket, not to a sexshop. Enjoy the weekend,” he winked and turned to leave.

Brian found himself unable to move, standing in the hallway with his mouth wide open and his hands full of small packs, when he heard a disturbing sound. After turning around, he saw his boyfriend lying on the ground, trembling with hysterical laughter and mouthing something that sounded suspiciously like "let's make" – laughter – “water bombs” between convulsions of shrieking.  
  
It was definitely going to be a long weekend – but at least they finally had quite a nice supply of condoms…

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Feel Like I'm Drowning from Two Feet (whom I have on repeat when I'm not busy listening to Queen).
> 
> My boyfriend thinks I am crazy because I tried to pronounce the word "condoms" while brushing my teeth at least fifty times, but I don't regret a thing.


End file.
